Modern Warfare  Restruction
by ClusiveC
Summary: The story of the Modern Warfare series, with some changes made. From Modern Warfare 2 and beyond. Experience the epic tale of the task force as they hunt for Makarov, and the 75th Ranger Regiment as they battle to save America.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one. Joseph Allen. Firebase Phoenix, Afghanistan.

Pfc. Allen looked at the newly arrived Afghan National Army troops that were obviously green as grass. Some of them were young and some of them looked to be in their mid to late 30's. Allen really didn't care, he was just worried about getting to the Pit. He had just finished helping Sgt. Foley show the recruits how to operate properly in battle, and now it was time for him to go and run the Pit course.

As he walked to the entrance to the Pit, Allen observed the rest of Firebase Phoenix. Some of the Rangers were shooting basketball on a small court that they had set up. Another small team of them were working on a disabled humvee, listening to some rap song that Joseph hadn't heard before. The sun was beating down and for a second, Allen considered taking off his gear like some of the others were doing. But he dismissed the thought, as he preferred to be ready at all times, no matter the condition.

Allen reached the steps that led into the course and made his way down, noticing Cpl. Dunn sitting on a table that had a few crates with weapons and ammo loaded into them. Dunn greeted him and told him about the reason why he had to run the course again.

"… Best shooter gets to join the prima donna squad… If that's your thing." Dunn told him.

Other than the Rangers, Joseph didn't know much about being in spec ops of any kind, so he really didn't care about being on top of everyone else. Besides, Foley and Dunn were his brothers, he had fought side by side with them numerous times.

_Let's just get this over with,_ Allen thought. He made sure that he had a full clip in the M4 and his sidearm, and then told Dunn to open the gate.

Roach had been hiking in the mountains of Kazakhstan with Captain Mactavish for about 2 days and their trek seemed as if it weren't going to come to a conclusion any time soon. They had set out to find the Russian airbase that was located somewhere deep into the mountain range so that they can retrieve the ACS module.

Gary had seen some amazing sights while he was on the mission. The crisp, cold air filled his lungs as he took in a deep breath. Russian airplanes had been flying overhead every now and then, and Roach and the Captain had been tracking them for the past 48 hours. They were all heading somewhere that was deep in the north. Roach would watch as they flew and flew until they disappeared behind a mountain somewhere, seeming as if they were heading nowhere. _Maybe we'll never find this airfield,_ Gary thought to himself.

"Okay Roach where going to stay put for the rest of the night. I see a cave over on the other side of this opening that we should use." Mactavish said to him as he pointed across a gap in the icy walk way that they were currently on. Roach eyed the gap and easily noticed how large it was.

"You want to jump _that?"_ Roach asked him in a voice of disbelief. So far they had already cleared several small gaps and they were fairly easy. But this one was almost like a gaping hole in the iced ground.

"Just use your ice picks like we did on the ones before and you'll be alright." The Captain said in a calm, even voice. Before Roach could protest further, Mactavish broke off into a run and leaped off the edge of the gap. Roach watched as Mactavish clung to the wall of the side opposite the one that he was on. _He barely made it!_ Captain Mactavish began climbing up the ice wall. Other than the close call, Mactavish made it look easy. The Captain made it to the top, climbed up, and then motioned for Roach to do the same as he did.

_Piece of cake._ Roach sprinted like Mactavish did and lunged off of the edge of the gap. He lifted his ice picks over his head in mid air, and then brought them down hard as he crashed into the opposite side of the gap. Both Ice picks held. _Made it! _He had even landed about halfway up the wall, unlike the Captain.

But before he could begin to climb, the ice started to crack. Roach felt a sharp pang of fear creep up into him. The ice began to break faster, but instead of watching to see what would happen, Roach had already began climbing up the wall as fast as he could. He could hear the clear sounds of ice being broken speed up as he continued his climb. He rose up the wall, willing himself to move faster and faster before it was too late. A large chunk of ice fell somewhere beneath him. _Move. _His arms were working like machines at the ice, not slowing down one bit. _Just a little more, come on move!_ Roach was only a few seconds away from conquering the broken ice, but before he made it, he heard a loud cracking sound. He knew that it was the entire section of ice, and it was about to fall completely. Roach willed himself to move faster and faster, and faster…

"Hey isn't this danger close for the task force?" One of the rangers asked curiously.

"C'mon, since when does Shepherd care about danger close?" Allen heard Dunn ask him. Right after he said that, the whole building that was targeted disappeared behind a huge column of smoke and debris. The explosion shook the ground beneath the small convoy and caused the gates on the side of the bridge to shake violently. He felt the shockwave ripple through the air.

His fellow Army Rangers cheered in the destruction of the building. Some of them had been recording the explosion for videos and other documentaries.

"We're Oscar Mike!" Allen heard one of them yell.

Their small convoy took off across the portable bridge that they had deployed. As they crept into the city, Allen could sense that feeling growing stronger inside of him. It was the same feeling that he always got when he was in battle. Dust was everywhere.

"This place is _dead_." Allen heard Cpl. Dunn say. Dunn put emphasis on the word dead. Everything was quiet and felt still. Allen made sure that he stayed sharp. He scanned windows and alleys and the rooftops, searching for any signs of movement. He noticed movement, but he also noticed that it was just a civilian running to hide.

"Three foot mobiles, balcony, 12 'O clock. Probable militia." Joseph heard someone on the radio say. He immediately adjusted his aim and sighted on the three men that were standing on the balcony, looking right at their convoy. They were watching them closely, but they weren't armed.

"I bet they're scouting us." Cpl. Dunn warned.

"Eh, but that don't mean we can shoot 'em." Allen told him from his position in the gunner seat, in a reassuring tone. He didn't know if Dunn had heard him clearly or not, due to the sound of the humvee engines, but Allen was still right. Orders were orders, and they couldn't shoot them unless they shot first.

The convoy turned down another street and kept the same slow pace. Everything was still feeling quiet and still. The quiet before the storm.

A loud crackle of a sniper round pierced the silence. The bullet whistled in the air, as if it had come close to hitting Allen himself.

The convoy sped up, and Joseph knew what was coming next.

"All Hunter Victors, this is Sergeant Foley. Prepare to engage, we're taking sniper shots from multiple directions." Foley told everyone over the com system. One of the Rangers in the humvee in front of theirs yelled something that sounded like "Spin 'em up!", but Joseph didn't need anyone to tell him, because he was already warming up the mini gun.

Allen looked up and, for a second, felt frozen in time. He picked out every detail in front of him. The numerous infantry running on top of the school building. The sniper that was using the second story window as a vantage point. The squad of foot mobiles coming out from the entrance of the school.

And the one carrying the RPG that was on the roof of a building next to the school.

"There they go, light 'em up!" Dunn yelled. Allen felt the heavy vibrating ripples coursing through his arms as he let loose with the mini gun. The sound was almost deafening as hundreds of rounds were fired in a matter of a few seconds. He gritted his teeth as he fought to control his aim of the weapon. Allen sighted the multiple infantry units that were on the roof of the school and let a barrage of bullets fly. He watched in awe as the foot mobiles were torn apart from the force of the rounds, with blood flying everywhere. Two of them had limbs easily torn off and the rest were ripped apart by the barrage. One of them fell off of the roof, his life less body impacting the hard ground two story's below.

All sound was drowned out. Without letting his fingers off the trigger, Allen brought the cannon down to focus his fire on the windows of the second floor. The sniper that was posted up stood no chance at all. The bullets completely lacerated him and the room behind him. His rifle flew up in the air and went out the window. The sniper himself flipped backwards and out of sight. The whole window was basically gone, torn to shreds by Allen's hail of bullets.

Boom! The humvee that was directly in front of his was blown away by the foot mobile holding the RPG. _I should have gone for him first! They're all dead and it's my fault… _

"There's too many of them! Back the hell up!" Dunn yelled to the driver of their humvee. Allen took a moment to breathe as the humvee went into reverse and turned into a street that was next to the school.

"Technical, take it out Allen!" Sgt. Foley said surprisingly from the passenger seat. Allen aimed the cannon directly at the gunner of the technical. The gunner of the technical aimed his weapon directly at Allen.Joseph pulled the trigger the same time the other gunner pulled the trigger…

…but Allen had the bigger gun. His bullets started to fly well before the other gunner was able to open up. The gunner was erased from the earth, as well as the whole back section of the truck. Allen was so focused on taking out the truck that he didn't notice the squad of foot mobiles that was taking position on the roof of the building right behind the technical.

"Allen! On the rooftop! Drop 'em!" He heard Sgt. Foley yell. He sounded far away due to the constant rattle of the mini gun being so close. Allen probably wouldn't have even recognized them had it not been for Foley. The rounds sent the squad running, except for one who wasn't so lucky. His leg was ripped off from the force of the bullets. The rest of him fell off the roof in a bloody heap.


	2. Chapter 2

New Characters added. Sandler and Roger.

Chapter Two. Joseph Allen. 75th Ranger regiment, Hunter squads. Afghanistan

"They're moving around upstairs." Roger whispered to the rest of the squad. Allen had barely made it inside the building when the RPG hit their humvee. He had landed face first on the ground after the explosion and could still hear the slight ringing in his ears from being dazed.

"Form up and secure the top floor." Sgt. Foley told them, and they quickly moved into position. Pvt. Roger and Dunn got next to each other just beneath the stairs. Allen and Foley piled in right behind them, rifles raised at the ready. Sandler aimed his light machine gun, the m249, at the door that everyone had to rush into to avoid being overran, covering the rear.

Allen counted down the seconds in his head. _3..._ Roger primed a flash bang and tossed it upstairs with the terrorists. _2... _They all heard the _thump _sound of the flash bang as it landed on the floor, and some yelling in a language that Allen didn't understand. _1... _He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The muffled boom rumbled and they all rushed up the stairs.

Both Dunn and Roger simultaneously entered the above room and opened fire on a trio of foot - mobiles, dropping all but one. The last standing terrorist was yelling incoherently before he was permanently silenced by Roger's SCAR. Dunn posted up on the left side of the small, cramped room, and Roger fell in on the opposite side. Allen and Foley made it up the stairs and continued into the second room.

_Let's do this, _Joseph thought to himself. Allen stepped into the second room first, aiming down the sights. There was a pair of them holding AK47 rifles, but neither one would prove to be effective. Other than the fact that they were already disoriented from the flash bang that Pvt. Roger had tossed, both of them looked like some small time militia that didn't even know how to handle a weapon properly. So Allen opened fire.

His target was the one in the back corner, off to the right. Three bullets sizzled through the air, and three bullets found their receiver. The first two slammed into his chest, causing him to stumble backwards. The final one landed home inside of his forehead, ending his story right on the spot. Allen had already heard the discharge of Sgt. Foley's M4. By the time he turned to face the other side of the room, Foley had already taken the second foot - mobile out. Sandler, the guy with the LMG, was just making it up the stairs.

Floor cleared.

"Hunter 2-1 to Hunter 2-3, I have eyes on the school, over!" Sgt. Foley informed the other Hunter squad. The enemies inside the school began to shift their fire and starting sending shots over to the building that they were in. Allen ducked under a window, took a deep breath, and returned fire on the school. Hunter 2-3 laid down some heavy fire on the windows and forced the terrorists to lay low. "Squad, on me, let's go!" The sergeant yelled above the sounds of war. Foley rushed out of a door leading to the street that they had drove their humvee on. Everyone followed.

Allen was surprised. Crossing the street and entering the courtyard of the school was easier than he thought it would be. The foot - mobiles inside must have been forced to stay down under the firepower of Hunter 2-3. _If only it could stay this simple... _Joseph was thinking. Allen and Hunter 2-1 entered the front doors of the building.

"Hostiles in the hallway!" Dunn warned them.

Allen could see them as well. Multiple targets were popping in and out of classrooms in a sort of chaotic manner. He tightened his grip on his M4 and stepped into the rumble...

* * *

><p>Sgt. Gary Sanderson, "Roach". Task Force 141. Kazakhstan.<p>

Gary took in the amazing sights with the Captain. They had been doing all kinds of climbing and hiking all morning, so they had stopped for a short break. The air was crisp and cold and the mountains were a brilliant white, tinged with spots of brown. Snowflakes were falling silently and the wind blew softly. Captain Mactavish finished his cigar and tossed it over the side of the steep cliff they were on. _Heh, life on the edge, huh? _Roach was thinking.

"Break's over Roach, let's go." The captain told him as he stood up. Gary followed his lead and they crept along the edge of the cliff. Roach pressed his back into the wall and didn't dare look down. They moved on in a slow pace and fought to keep their balance on the small space.

"Stay here and spot me. Wait for my go." Mactavish said calmly. _Here we go again..._

_ ... _"You take the one on the left, and i'll get the one on the right." Mactavish whispered quietly to Roach. Gary had known that the pair of Russian troops were there before he had even saw them. The heartbeat sensor attached to his ACR was a perfect addition to his weapon on a mission like this.

Roach sighted the red dot directly on the back of enemy trooper on the left, exhaled slowly, and lightly squeezed the trigger until the weapon discharged. One single round tore directly through the neck of the trooper, ending his life silently. The other one on the right fell no more than a second later.

Roach and the captain crept along the outer edges of the base and entering it covertly. They were still undetected and Gary hoped it would stay that way. He felt the change in the wind speed and could sense the snowstorm growing stronger. Snowflakes began to fall much faster.

"Let's split up. I'll use the thermal scope and provide overwatch from this ridge. You'll be a ghost in this blizzard, so the guards won't see you until you're very close." Mactavish informed him.

Roach watched as the captain climbed up a wall of ice and snow and disappear into the blizzard. _Let's get this over with..._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three. 2 weeks later. James Ramirez, 75th Rangers.

Northeastern Virginia, USA.

"Everyone on me! Go, go, go." Sgt. Foley said to Hunter 2-1. Ramirez reloaded his SCAR and followed the sergeant across the parking lot of the restaurant. James had only been apart of Hunter 2-1 a few days but felt as if he had been with the team for a lifetime. All morning long they had been fighting in the streets of Virginia. The squad had narrowly escaped death not too long ago when an enemy BTR ambushed them and another Hunter squadron while they were en route to Raptor's location. Hunter 2-3 was engaged in some heavy weight fighting and 2-1 was to come in for support.

James, Sandler, Roger, and Dunn ran across the open ground following Foley. 2-3 was posted up inside of the restaurant, fighting to survive the Russian assault. Ramirez recognized Pvt. Wells as they approached the building. Wells was taking cover behind a destroyed car, firing at a group of enemy troops that was approaching. Sgt. Foley slid into cover beside Wells, and Ramirez did the same, opening fire on the foot - mobiles. Roger, Sandler, and Dunn went into the restaurant to cover the opposite side of the building.

"Private, gimme a sitrep!" Sgt. Foley demanded.

Ramirez couldn't make out all of what Wells was saying because he was still shooting his rifle. He took the time to aim and centered the sights on an enemy rifleman. Bang! Bang! Two shots rang out in rapid fire. The rifleman fell to the ground but was still moving. Ramirez didn't waste time firing off another shot when he saw the Russian soldier pull out a handgun.

"Dunn! Go and check out Raptor. He's inside the meat locker." Foley said over the com. Ramirez ducked back down behind the car and slapped in a fresh clip into his SCAR.

"There's a supply drop on the roof with an M-5 sentry gun." Wells said. Ramirez could hear the fear in his voice. Wells and Ramirez were both new to the Hunter unit, but Ramirez had adapted to combat much faster.

"Alright Hunter 2-1. We're going to move to the roof of the building. Go!" Foley yelled in the com, so that they all could hear.

Ramirez and Foley leap - frogged into the building. Ramirez sprinted into the back door while Foley was laying down cover fire. When he made it inside, he opened up on the advancing troops and covered Foley so that he could come in through the same door. Ramirez found a ladder inside the kitchen and climbed up to the top. He took in his surroundings when he climbed onto the roof. A large box of ammunition, like the one he saw earlier when they were battling the BTR, sat in the center of the roof. Other weapons and equipment were strewn about the roof.

Everyone else in 2-1 made it up the ladder and took up positions along the sides of the roof. Hunter 2-3 was down below, taking cover inside the restaurant. Ramirez spotted a small group of vehicles coming in from the southern street.

"Enemy trucks to the south." Ramirez said. Hunter 2-1 and 2-3 adjusted their positions accordingly, ready for the enemy troops. Sandler propped his M249 up on the guard wall and took aim. Everything grew still for a moment, and then things erupted. Russian troops were piling out of the trucks and charging the restaurant. _Why the hell is Raptor so damned important?_ Ramirez questioned himself. A trio of bullets crashed into the wall of the restaurant, missing completely.

"Light 'em up!" They all heard Dunn yell, and they did just that. Sandler responded to the outburst of fire with a deafening wave of bullets from the LMG. Roger calmly aimed his M4, like he always did, and opened up on them. Everybody else followed suit.

The charging troops were met with a wall of gunfire. The closest ones fell first, going down without a fight. One of the parked cars blew up in a fiery explosion that disabled 3 of them. Ramirez burst - fired at a trio of approaching troops, forcing them to cover up behind a pickup truck. Sandler unleashed hell and demolished the entire truck, rendering it useless for someone to use as cover. As soon as the three foot - mobiles got up to move, Ramirez let them have it. The first one was the unlucky one. Ramirez put an end to him with a kill shot to the head. The other two began running in fear and ended up in the cross hairs of everyone else in 2-1.

Roger made it look easy. He dropped both targets back to back. The Russian advance was halted.

"We got more of them! Coming in from the north!" Wells yelled from down below.

"Damn they don't give up for shit, do they?" Sandler asked angrily. Ramirez could see a frown on his face. Sandler rushed to the other side of the roof and unleashed hell on the second wave. This time the Russians meant business. Bullets were peppering the wall just below their position and they forced Sandler to lay low.

Ramirez and Dunn crawled over to the other side with Sandler and tried to return fire, but the relentless down pour of bullets didn't stop.

"Oh man, we're screwed." Dunn said. Ramirez had already realized that Dunn didn't do good under pressure and wasn't surprised by the comment.

Ramirez gritted his teeth and fired a handful of rounds.

"Alright then..." He heard Sandler whisper. Right after that, Sandler brought his M249 back onto the guard wall and let loose.

"Take it!... Take it!" Sandler was yelling. And just as soon as the enemy advance started, it stopped. "They're falling back. Hell yeah!" Sandler said. Ramirez was breathing heavily.

Everything was quiet again.

"Medic! We got a man down!" Someone from Hunter 2-3 was yelling. Cpl. Dunn got up and moved fast, rushing to get to the wounded guy.

"So, when's the convoy gonna get here?" Roger asked Sgt. Foley curiously. Foley reloaded his weapon.

"They'll be back. Everyone check your weapons and ammo." He said.

Ramirez put a fresh clip into his SCAR, stood up, and watched quietly. The skies were filled with paratroopers and Russian planes. They were everywhere. The streets were filled with the invaders. No one had been prepared for something like this. Buildings off in the distance were on fire and the sky was clouded with black smoke. Roger walked up and stood beside him. Sgt. Foley and Sandler did too. Ramirez knew that this was just the beginning. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? He had never lived in Virginia, but he could tell that the place was once beautiful.

"2-1 Delta this is Overlord. Be advised, you've got 2 BTRs and a large group of hostiles coming in, north side."

* * *

><p>Gary 'Roach' Sanderson, Task Force 141. Rio de Janeiro.<p>

Roach and the rest of the small team that went to capture Rojas sat tight, waiting for Ghost to return. They were being hunted by the militia in the streets of Rio de Janeiro and needed a way out - fast. There was only 7 of them in the small group. Roach, Ghost, Mactavish, Exxon, Peasant, Nuke, and the newest guy, Allen. Gary was impressed by Allen. Allen had been sent on the airport raid with another 141 member, but was compromised. Allen managed to make it out of Moscow alive, somehow. The other guy didn't make it, though. Footsteps approached their position, and Ghost came back running, breathing heavily.

"The militias closing in. Dozens of them, too many to count" He said. Roach's tightened his grip on the UMP45. He had battled the militia back when they were capturing Rojas. They looked like a bunch of errand runners, but they weren't something to mess with. And they always outnumbered you.

"Nikolai, we're at the top of the Favela engaging the militia. Bring the chopper to the market!" Mactavish said to Nikolai.

"Okay my friend, I am on the way." Nikolai replied.

The team got up and moved through a row of bushes and emerged on the other side with an army of militia dug in inside of buildings and on roof tops. They fanned out and moved to engage. Roach, Nuke, and Allen went to the right, everyone else went left.

Roach climbed onto the back of a pickup truck and made every bullet count. He dropped one of them with a burst of rounds to the chest. Then he targeted another and centered his aim on their head and pulled the trigger. Some of the militia were set up on the roof of the buildings in the back and fired at him. Roach ducked down and cursed, avoiding the gunfire. He looked to his right and saw Nuke taking aim with a modified ACR. Allen was moving in behind him.

"Two tangos beside that dumpster!" Allen yelled. Nuke fired his ACR.

"They're down!" He said.

Roach counted to 3 in his head, and then climbed off the back of the truck and dived behind a small brick wall, almost getting hit. He primed a frag grenade and tossed it into the door of one of the buildings that the militia was using. The ground shook when it exploded and he heard the screams of the unlucky hostiles.

Both sides battled it out fiercely, trading shots with each other, but the militia was no match for the 141. A small group of tangos burst out of a shack and Roach and Ghost quickly gunned them down. The one in front was hit in the leg, stomach, and shoulder, disabling him efficiently. The ones that followed were tagged with bullets all over. Roach shot the final one in the head for a quick kill shot. The militia was falling back.

When Roach went back into cover to reload his UMP, he heard the sound of an engine getting closer and closer. _The hell...?_ Roach looked up. Crash! The gate leading into the deeper areas of the favela burst open and a truck with a gunner mounted on the back sped through.

"Technical coming in from the south!" Ghost yelled. The gunner on the back of it opened fire on the 141. Exxon fired into the truck and killed the driver instantly, and the truck crashed into the wall of a building. The gunner tried to hop off the back of it but was far too late. The gunner fell off the back in a bloody heap.

"Head through that gate and keep pushing to the evac point!" Mactavish said when the technical was disabled.

Roach leaped over the small wall and followed behind Allen and Nuke as they headed into the deep part of the favela.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four. 75th Rangers.

The 75th Rangers had lost many men. They had been fighting in close quarters with the Russians savagely. House to house fighting was taking it's toll on them. Friends had been lost and it was only the beginning. They had been battling an enemy who knew no fear. Virginia was hit too hard. Out of all the units tasked with defending the state, Hunter unit saw the worst of it.

Private Wells, the youngest of them all, died when they were protecting Raptor. Corporal Dunn fought to save him, but couldn't. They were unable to recover his body due to heavy assaults. Wells couldn't finish his last sentence. Ramirez kept his dog tags.

Sandler wanted to kill the Russians more than anyone else. The unit passed by his grandparents house one day. No one said a word as they watched the house burn to ashes and rubble. A Russian flag was waving in the air right beside it.

The commander of Hunter, Lieutenant Jacobs, died in battle. Refusing to surrender or retreat or, in his own words, die by their hands, him and his men were overran inside a small apartment building. Jacobs was the last man standing, fighting the Russians fiercely. He stood by his word, 'Refusing to die by their hands'. Hunter 2-1 arrived barely too late to save him, and Ramirez watched as the corner room on the top floor exploded.

Ramirez and Roger watched the destruction of Virginia. All the lives lost trying to defend it. Hunter 2-3 was ambushed one day. BTRs, attack helicopters, and a group of over 15 foot mobiles cornered them inside a small gas station. 2-3 managed to take out the helicopters and one of the BTRs. The last transmission they received from 2-3 - "Everywhere! Dozens of... are surrounding us. I repeat ... cornered on ... We have a man down! Need -"

Eventually, Overlord pulls the 75th out of Virginia and redeploys them to Washington, D.C. And the remaining Hunter teams are plunged into the worst fighting yet.

The hero, Private James Ramirez, and Hunter 2-1, are being sent into the mouth of hell. Their souls will be tested.

* * *

><p>Task Force 141<p>

The militia of Rio de Janeiro proved to be a formidable foe, even for the 141. All seven of them made it out, but just barely. Roach and Allen were nearly captured, but managed to make it to the chopper.

Their next task, however, will make Rio de Janeiro look like a piece of cake. The gulag that 627 was in was defended by Russian special forces, the elite Spetsnaz. The conditions were not friendly. The US navy was reluctant to stop their air support, and nearly killed several TF operators. Multiple times, Roach stared into the face of death and made it out okay. The worst, was when they had to fight through the locker rooms.

Enemies literally were on all sides. Above, the front and rear, and around every corner. They also had to engage the ruthless heavy assault troops. Two members of the 141 didn't make it.

By the time they reach 627, a total of 5 TF operators are killed, the most in a single mission they've ever had. The prisoner turns out to be Captain Price, the former SAS operative. Roach would have been killed had it not been for Mactavish.

The battle tested warriors of the 141 are now ready to take out Makarov. But little do they know of the betrayal that is soon to come.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five. Gary 'Roach' Sanderson. TF141 HQ, Bravo wing.

Roach and the rest of Bravo team was inside the 'operating' room, except for Mactavish and Price. Allen was reading a book quietly. Exxon and Nuke were both working on the radio. Peasant had a fat, unlit cigar in his mouth reading some letter he had gotten.

Roach wadded up a piece of paper out of his tablet into a ball and shot it in the trash can from across the room. _He shoots, He scores._

Allen sat that book that he'd been reading for the past week down.

"So, when are we gonna go and kill Makarov?" Allen asked. They had been talking about a possible safe house to raid that was located just outside of Germany, but still wasn't quite sure. The Task Force was still recovering from the recent losses. The only team that was out right now was Charlie team. Everyone else was sitting tight at the HQ.

"Could be days for all we know." Peasant said quietly without looking up from his letter.

"Eh, well I don't trust that Shepard guy. I don't like the look of him. He's reckless and doesn't care who's blood gets spilled to win." Allen said to everyone in the room. Peasant looked up from the letter in his hands.

"Neither do I, Allen, but we can't do much about it can we?" Peasant asked Allen.

"I'm just saying, I don't think it's a good idea for him to be calling the shots. Maybe that Price guy should replace him, don't you think?" Allen spoke to them.

"Wasn't he the commander of you're Ranger unit in Afghanistan?" Exxon asked Allen curiously.

"Yeah, he was. And he got the unit ambushed and nearly wiped out for some small backwater city that nobody cares about. One squad got blown up by an RPG when the bullets started to fly. Shepard got those guys killed in a reckless charge into the heart of that town." Allen told him.

"Hey, Gary, you never told me about what you did before you were put into the Task Force." Nuke said from the small table that the radio was sitting on. Roach hadn't really done much outside of the military. He had worked a few part time jobs here and there but for the most part, he had mainly been in the military.

"Not much to tell really. I went into special forces as soon as I got the chance. Not too long after that was when they selected me for the Task Force 141." Roach told him.

"That's some real colorful history you got there, Roach." Nuke said with a smile on his face. Roach just shrugged.

Roach closed his tablet and sat back in his seat and put his hands behind his head, relaxing, and thought to himself. Peasant didn't talk much. He had dark brown eyes and dark red hair. He was taller than everybody else but could blend into a crowd easily. He looked sort of like Captain Mactavish.

Allen was short and built. He had a tattoo on his arm, but Roach never really cared to closely examine it. Allen was younger than everybody else but had a lot of experience.

Other than the peach fuzz Ghost had on his chin, he didn't have any facial hair, like Roach. And his hair was black and wavy, like Roach's. Roach had known Ghost for a long time, back before they both were put into the 141.

The door to the room opened and Mactavish stepped inside.

"We're going to attack the safe house. I'll let you know when." He said. "Oh yeah, and we've got a new member, fresh out of selection." Mactavish told them. They all looked up at him. Exxon and nuke left the radio alone, listening closely.

Roach thought for a second. It wasn't often that they got new guys just before conducting a mission. Especially one that's fresh out of selection. Hell, it wasn't often that the got new guys period.

Mactavish stepped aside and Roach was surprised to see a lady walk through the door. She was around the same height as Allen and had black shoulder length hair. Her eyes were green.

Roach thought for another second. The Task Force rarely ever enlisted women. Even still, it had been a while since it last did. This was truly a surprise to him.

"I'm Raven." She said with a slight wave.

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Luccario, Rapier squadron. Above Washington, D.C.<p>

Luccario chaffed and banked hard to the right and dodged the missile. The g forces pressed him, but he was used to it and his suit helped a lot. He looked around and kept the Su-37 in his view. Luccario pulled the yoke hard, taking full advantage of the super maneuverability of the F-22A. The Su-37 was passing over head and Luccario brought the F-22A around to slip in behind it.

The familiar buzzing sound filled the cockpit when he got a lock on the fighter. The Su-37 made a sharp left turn. Luccario did a barrel roll and spun until the top of the cockpit faced the back of the enemy fighter and pulled the yoke hard again. The g forces were strong and the edges of his vision turn dark slightly. As soon as he got in behind the Su-37 again, he fired.

"Fox two!" Luccario said. The short range missile streaked through the air. The enemy pilot stood no chance and the missile collided with his plane. The Su-37 was on fire and blew up before the pilot could eject. Debris and pieces of the plane fell to the war zone down below.

"Heads up Rapier lead. I see a flight of 2 PAK FA's on approach from the south, on intercept course. Fighter class." The ATC said over the radio. Luccario picked them up on radar. Two red dots slowly grew closer to the dogfight zone.

"I see 'em. Uh, we may need some backup here.." He told the ATC.

"Sorry Rapier, but all air units are currently engaged. You're on your own for now. I'll keep you posted to let you know if someone's free." The ATC told him. Luccario didn't bother replying. His attention was focused on the incoming bogeys.

"Mario, you still locked up?" Luccario said as he flipped a pair of switches in the cockpit. He took a quick glance at the ground down below. The fighting down there was fierce. Buildings were on fire and explosions lit up the horizon.

"I got his ass! Su-37 Flanker is down, sir. Who's next?" Mario, his wingman, asked. Luccario flipped another switch and headed straight for the PAK FA's.

"Form up on me, Mario." He ordered. "These guys won't know what hit 'em." Luccario whispered to himself. The enemy fighters were closing at an attack angle. Luccario switched to strike and prepared to fire on the leading plane. Just before the fighter got within range, however, it broke off to the right. The other one went left. _So it's gonna be like that, huh? Okay. _

"Mario, you got the one on the left. I got the lead one." He said.

Luccario pulled hard and shot his plane straight up into the air, battling the intense G forces. The F-22A lost some speed but Luccario still got some altitude. He looked out the starboard side of the cockpit and located the PAK FA below him. The enemy pilot was coming around, turning sharply to line up with the F-22A. Luccario waited until the fighter was completely turned and coming straight at him before he maneuvered again. He pulled the yoke back again, doing a back flip. He was coming down hard and fast, struggling to keep control of the plane. The close range Sidewinder got a lock and began to buzz.

Luccario gritted his teeth and fired, hoping to hit the PAK FA before it got a chance to move. "Rapier One, fox 2!" The missile launched from his plane and sped towards the bogey. Luccario had to pull up and level with the ground though, and couldn't see what would happen. He looked out the sides of the cockpit, but was unable to see the enemy fighter. The word 'Miss' flashed on the onboard computer. _Damn!_

Luccario looked all around but couldn't see the bogey. Then he spotted it. The pilot must have been experienced. Dodging a missile at an angle like that wasn't easy at all. The bogey was swooping in behind him, closing the distance between them fast. Luccario tried to shake him with a series of maneuvers but couldn't.

"Warning, warning, warning..." The computer said to Luccario when the PAK FA found a lock. _No shit._ Luccario took a second to wipe the palms of his hands on his flight pants, even though he had gloves on.

The PAK FA fired its missile and Luccario had to act fast. He braked and made a sharp turn to the right, popping flares to fool the missile. He watched on the radar as the small white dot kept its collision course for his F-22A.

But super maneuverability had its advantages. The missile couldn't make a turn that hard at that speed. The white dot blinked off his radar as the missile lost its lock - on. Luccario took a deep breath. _My turn._

Instead of leveling back out, Luccario rolled the plane around with the cockpit facing the opposite direction. The PAK FA zoomed by just as Luccario was pulling up, falling in right behind the bogey. He switched to Gun and closed in on the rear of the enemy fighter, lining up his shot. The Russian pilot barrel rolled and dived, but Luccario kept on him. He fired the nose cannon, and the bullets peppered the enemy plane. The PAK FA spun and went to the right suddenly and Luccario barely managed to react in time. He lined up another shot and opened up on the PAK FA again. This time he caused some serious damage. Smoke began spreading out from the back of the plane, inking the sky and limiting Luccario's vision.

"Rapier two, Fox two!" He heard Mario yell. Luccario was too focused on the PAK FA to see if Mario hit or not. "Splash one, he's down." Mario said a few seconds later.

The bogey that Luccario was trailing began to lose altitude and slowly sunk to the ground. He could see the pilot eject from the plane, floating helplessly in the air. The plane itself continued on its downward trajectory, picking up speed before it crashed. A small explosion flashed where the PAK FA hit.

"I got him. Enemy target is down." Luccario said. He tapped a button on his display that sent a signal to Mario, letting him know to form up. He checked the radar to make sure everything was all clear, and then looked down at the ground below. The fighting had died down some. It wasn't as intense as it was that morning when he had first took to the skies. Some explosions here and there, but nothing serious, as far as he could see.

"Rapier lead gimme a sitrep. Scope is clear, did you down the two bogeys?" ATC asked him.

"Yeah they're down. Skies are clear for the moment, ATC." Luccario replied, checking again to make sure there wasn't anything popping up.

"Alright, that's good but, uh, we got a unit taking heavy incoming from hostile ground forces. They need some support. Callsign is Hunter 2-1. I'm patching you through to Hunter lead." The ATC told him. Luccario did an ammo check to make sure he was armed.

"Rapier lead! This is Sgt. Foley, acting commander of Hunter group. We got 2 enemy BTRs raining hell on us and we need an assist. We're 2 klicks to the south of the Washington Monument, green flares marking our position. We need you to take out those BTRs!" Foley told him. Luccario had 4 AGM's left, more than enough to put down a pair of BTRs. Those things were considered light weight anyway, compared to what else Russia had in their arsenal. Luccario looked out the port side of the cockpit and saw a green fog of smoke billowing from the roof of a small building. He yawed the F-22A until he was on a direct course to the smoke.

"I need you to light the targets for me, Sgt. Foley." Luccario said calmly.

"Standby... Ok! Two BTRs painted." Foley told him. Luccario switched to the AGM - 65 Mavericks and picked up two targets on the HUD. He lit the first one, signalling for Mario to destroy it. He would get the other one.

The building with the green smoke on it was taking some serious firepower. Pieces of the building were being blown off and Luccario could make out the small arms fire coming from the inside of it. A rocket flew out of one of the windows and hit the BTR closest to it. The rocket was almost virtually useless.

"Talk to me, Sgt. Foley, what's going on down there?" Lu asked him.

"Enemy foot mobiles are beginning to withdraw -" An explosion caused him to pause for a beat. "But the BTRs are being stubborn. They won't let up." Foley told him over the sounds of gunfire in the background.

"ETA is 15 seconds 2-1, hang in there." Lu said in a reassuring tone. The cockpit began to make a beeping noise as his AGM-65 locked onto the BTR. Coming in from a downward attack angle, he had an easy shot. "Firing..." He mumbled as he launched the missile. Mario did the same a second later.

Both missiles hurled towards their targets, closing the gap between them. The first missile, the one that Lu shot, impacted on the BTR and blew it up in a blazing fire, pieces of wreckage being tossed around. The second one detonated right after the first, destroying the BTR in a fiery hell.

"Enemy BTRs are down 2-1." Lu said as he flew overhead.

"Thanks for the assist Rapier lead. We owe you one." Sgt. Foley told him with relief in his voice.

"Anytime 2-1. Anytime." Lu said, trying to sound cool. He felt a sense of victory, although there was none. He might have managed to drop a handful of greenhorns and pop a couple of tanks, but the city was still under attack. There was no time for celebration in the mist of war. He respected Sgt. Foley and the Hunter 2-1 squad. No way could he have operated that well under that much pressure.

Either way, they were all in the same big pit together. They'd have to drive off the invasion before they could achieve any victory.

* * *

><p>James Ramirez, 75th Rangers. Washington, D.C.<p>

Later that evening.

Ramirez and the rest of the squad sat in the underground trench quietly, listening to the soft explosions going off in the distance. He had been fighting all day, defending Washington, D.C. His hands were shaking slightly. The war was making him extremely numb. He didn't flinch at the sight of death anymore, because it had become a part of life for him and the others in 2-1. Ramirez had long ago stopped expecting to live, and just fought and followed orders. A bullet had grazed his arm, but didn't cause real damage. The Russians were fighting fiercely and refused to take no for an answer when it came to Washington, D.C.

But for now, Ramirez could take the time to think and relax. He hadn't slept for about 2 days but didn't care. He didn't want to sleep. The squad had nearly gotten wasted until those F-22's saved them. Ramirez had found an RPG inside the small department store that they had gotten themselves pinned up in. He had climbed over to a window and fired the thing at the first BTR that he saw, but the worthless thing didn't even put a dent in it. Ramirez had felt a strong sense of fear after that. The entire squad had been improvising, trying to use anything to take the things out. Dunn had even taped a small handful of frag grenades together, throwing them at one of the BTRs.

But it was all over now. When they arrived at the underground command trenches with the rest of the Hunter squadrons, the mail had arrived too. Letters had been passed around. Roger had received word that his brother, a delta force operator, had been KIA not too long ago. Sandler got some super long letter from his mom. Dunn was writing to his younger sister, and Foley was writing to his wife. Ramirez, as usual, didn't get anything.

"Hey don't you have somebody you can write to? Like a girl or something?" Sandler asked him curiously. Ramirez thought back on his days prior to joining the armed forces.

"There was this one girl... Know what? I don't feel like writing anyway. I got enough of that back in school." Ramirez told him. They all looked at him, except for Sgt. Foley.

"Keep going there James, you said something about a girl." Sandler said to him with a slight grin on his face. Sandler asked too many questions. He was too curious.

"That's none of your business, you know." Ramirez told him coolly.

"Ah, she probably didn't like your ass anyway." Sandler said to him.

They all sat quietly for another set of minutes. Everyone finished reading and writing, and everyone except Foley was sitting around their small room. Sgt. Foley had went to talk to the Major. Roger had a smile on his face.

"I remember there was this guy back in high school who used to think he was the baddest sum'bitch alive. He used to bully people around like he was invincible or something." Roger said to them. "John was his name. Johnny Dills. Yoo's would laugh if you saw his hairdo." Roger said in his New York accent. "For a time, y' know, the idiot started messin' wit me." Roger told them, with suspense in his voice, like he was telling a campfire story.

"So one day I had enough of it. The guy knocked my food tray outta my hands in lunch. And I used to take lunch seriously, y'know? It was one of the main reasons why I went to school." Roger said, laughing.

"So I tried to look big and bad, too, y'know. I stood up to him, sucking in air into my chest... lifting my chin up, and I tell Johnny 'Know what? Why don't you stop acting all tough and fight me already, huh? Ya talk the talk but ya can't walk the walk, sonny.' I said. So we went outside and fought." Roger said. He paused right there, hesitating.

"And? What happened?" Dunn asked him.

"Well, I used to spend a lot of time in the gym cause I was with the football team. I was one of the strongest guys in the school. So when I went outside and threw my jacket off..." Roger paused.

"Tell us what happened already!" Sandler demanded.

"Whaddya' think happened? I got my ass whooped." Roger said, and everybody started laughing. All of them, laughing together because Roger got beat the hell up by a bully.

Everybody started telling stories of their time in high school, sharing laughs with one another. Ramirez told them how he had tried to steal extra food out of the cafeteria once when nobody was looking. It didn't turn out so well. All week long Ramirez had been planning on how he would time it perfectly. He calculated when and where the staff would be at certain times. Spending an entire week on building a 'Master' plan. All for an extra slice of cold pizza. Ramirez ended up getting caught and suspended for 7 days.

It was the first time they had actually had some type of fun since the invasion began... And Ramirez was glad that he was with the men of Hunter 2-1...


	6. Chapter 6

**Note: **Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. I have to strategically plan my time on the computer because of my 2 sisters who get on. I'll try not to let it happen again.

Chapter Six. Pvt. James Ramirez, 75th Rangers. Washington, D.C.

Ramirez followed Sgt. Foley and the rest of the squad through the trenches, trying his best to keep up with them. The evac site at the Washington monument had been hit hard by the Russians and Hunter 2-1 was tasked with defending it. The ground was littered with bodies.

"Move into the building, Go, GO GO!" Sgt. Foley yelled. Ramirez climbed over a small brick wall and ran across the street to the stairs leading into the building, with bullets peppering the ground behind him. He reached the top of the stairs, just behind Roger, and stepped inside the building. Enemy foot mobiles were up on the second floor and had the high ground on them, opening fire on Ramirez and Roger. James dived behind a counter, narrowly escaping a barrage of gunfire, and Roger used a large ammo box for cover. Sgt. Foley, Sandler, and Dunn made it inside the building and also took cover.

Ramirez loaded his grenade launcher and spotted a pair of the enemy troopers above, firing down on them. He aimed and fired. The grenade flew through the air in a slight arc and Ramirez watched from behind cover. The grenade flew just over the 2 enemy troops, but hit the wall right behind them and exploded on impact. The explosion sent them flying and blew up a small section of the walkway that they were on.

"He's got an RPG!" Dunn yelled. Ramirez ducked back down below the counter just in time. An explosion rocked the ground, throwing Ramirez to the floor and sent his SCAR flying out of his hands. He landed face first on the floor and his SCAR landed out in the open beside the counter. His vision wasn't blurred or anything, but he could hear ringing in his ear. Roger let out two 3 round bursts from his M4a1.

"I got him, he's down." Roger said calmly.

Ramirez pushed himself up onto his knees and kept his head down, searching for his weapon. It was out in the open, right beside the counter. He crawled over to the edge of the counter, making sure to stay behind cover, and reached out to grab it.

Right before his hand gripped it, several bullets collided with the floor right below his arm, and he yanked his hand back to avoid getting hit. _Damnit! _He tried again. His hand reached out far and gripped the SCAR by the barrel and he pulled it back to him. This time, nobody fired at him.

"They're pulling back! Move up, 2-1." Sgt. Foley said to the squad. Ramirez checked to make sure his rifle was okay and made sure that the room was clear. They must have fell back deeper into the building.

Ramirez grabbed the top of the counter to pull himself up to his feet and raised his rifle, keeping it at the ready. They all moved up and turned down a long hallway, with Dunn naturally taking point. The hall was empty, except for several bodies laying carelessly on the floor. There was only one door, and it was all the way at the end of the hall. The hallway itself led to another hallway that was about halfway down the hall. The door at the end of the hallway busted open suddenly, and Ramirez instinctively ducked behind a turned over table. The familiar sounds of gunbattle returned.

He couldn't tell how many it was. The overpowering sound of Sandlers LMG filled the hall. Ramirez raised his weapon and sighted on the first enemy he saw. Hours of battle had honed his already lethal skills with the assault rifle, and Ramirez was as good as Roger was now. He aimed and fired with excellent discipline, tagging the Russian with multiple rounds. He repeated the process with another one, taking him down with deadly efficiency.

The foot mobiles had very little cover. Ramirez could see where the bullets were popping the ground from Sandlers M249. The wood in the table that he was using for cover splintered from the impact of several bullets, and Ramirez put his head down.

"Grenade!" Sgt. Foley yelled. Ramirez looked around frantically, hoping that it wasn't near him. He looked across the hall and saw Roger pick up the live frag grenade off the ground and throw it back at them. It blew up in mid air, throwing shrapnel everywhere.

Sandler kept the fire on them, though. The heavy incoming forced the Russians to keep there head down, and allowed 2-1 to pick them off. Ramirez peeked up from behind the table and watched one of them catch a bullet in his leg and neck, disabling him permanently.

Ramirez turned to center his aim on one of the foot mobiles. His target fell before he fired, however, and he realized that Roger had taken the guy out. The remaining troopers got cut down by the rest of 2-1 in the space of 3 heartbeats. Ramirez realized he had been holding his breath, and exhaled slowly.

The squad continued on cautiously, ready for anyone that would be lying in wait. Ramirez thought to himself at the same time.

Within the past few weeks, he had seen more action on the home front than he had overseas. Washington D.C. was a hell hole. Never in his life did he think he would be fighting in the streets of his own country. Never did he think he would see the nations capitol set ablaze like it was now. Buildings that were once beautiful, were now turned into ruins. The place just simply looked like hell. And he was in the middle of it.

Hunter 2-1 had undoubtedly seen more of the worst fighting of the war than anybody else. Ramirez had been given two options when he first got put in 2-1. Either adapt to the game quickly, or die. Luckily for him, he had came into combat naturally, feeling familiar with it even during his first engagements. If he hadn't, he would've ended up like Wells most likely. That thought made him shake his head.

Wells had been a close friend of his during their time in training. It weighed heavily on him when Wells died back in Virginia.

_Ramirez was on his knees, clutching Wells hand in his fist. Blood was all over Ramirez, but it wasn't his. Wells had been hit too hard and Dunn couldn't save him._

_"Hang in there man. I'm getting you out of here." Ramirez told him in an even voice, trying to calm him down some. Ramirez knew that Wells wouldn't make it. He had lost too much blood._

_"Don't let me die, James. Don't let me die. Don't let me die..."_

"Incoming!" Sgt. Foley yelled, interrupting Ramirez's train of thought. He instinctively dived to the side, landing behind a turned over desk. It felt as if an earthquake was going on. A loud boom pierced Ramirez's ears, causing a terrible ringing in them. He covered his head with his hands when he saw the debris from the explosion coming down. _What in God's name...?_

A huge hole had been blown in the wall from outside, but Ramirez couldn't see what had done it because his hands were still covering most of his view. He slowly uncovered them and saw an enemy helicopter flying away from the building, leaving the area. They all stood up slowly, recovering from the blast. Once again, Ramirez had lost his rifle. He found it lying on the other side of the desk.

"Everybody Ok?" Sgt. Foley asked, wiping dust off of his arm. Ramirez had caught a small piece of glass from a window on his hand, but it didn't cause any major damage. He realized that was the second time he had bled since he'd been fighting the Russians. The first time was when a bullet had grazed his leg a few days earlier.

"You straight, James" Roger asked him. Ramirez coughed twice.

"Yeah. I'm good." He said to him, as he picked up his SCAR from the floor.

Lieutenant Harry, Black Hawk Pilot. Washingtion, D.C.

Harry dodged a wave of AA missiles just in time, nearly getting hit by all of them. It would have been a quick death. The navy seals in the back were having one helluva ride. Enemy ground troops were advancing on the evac site from several directions. He couldn't brink the Black Hawk in to take care of them because of the group of enemies at the corner of that building. They would knock him out the air before he got a chance to make a difference. But he could help out the friendlies battling in the streets.

Harry lowered the altitude of the Black Hawk, getting just within effective weapons range. There was a squad sized amount of enemy troops dug in beside a small bank, firing on a group of marines. He closed the distance between them and spun the helicopter to the side, giving the gunner a clear line of sight.

"Light 'em up!" He yelled over his shoulder to the gunner, but it was unnecessary. Guns was already opening up with the minigun, devastating the ground troops. Harry watched as several vehicles exploded from the downpour of bullets and smiled. _Take that, ya bastards!_ The ground troops were being torn apart from the force of the rounds. Two of them were running, desperately trying to escape.

"Hey Guns, get those sum'bitches!" Harry said in his southern accent. He spun the helicopter a little more to give Guns a better field of view. The bullets ripped into the pair of retreating troops. They collapsed under the gunfire, not standing a chance at all.

The minigun stopped firing and Harry watched the ground closely. No movement.

"Lieutenant Harry, Hunter 2-1 has cleared the enemy's crow's nest in the southeast corner of the building. You're cleared to touchdown. Overlord out."

_'Bout damn time._

"That crows nest is cleared out so i'm gonna set you guys down!" Harry yelled to the Navy SEALS in the back. He rotated 180 degrees and faced the target building. He flew the helicopter, trying to move fast to avoid any confrontations. It didn't work.

A small force of enemy troops were posted up on the roof of a small gas station nearby. Guns naturally opened fire on them, trying his best to suppress them. There was at least twenty of them opening fire on the Black Hawk. Guns dropped several of them, tearing away large chunks of the building and causing serious damage. But they fired back in response and bullets began pelting the side of the black hawk, tagging it with bullet holes. Bullets were slamming into the side.

Harry heard Guns scream when he got hit with several rounds. He looked behind him in time to see Guns fall out the side of the black hawk and plummet to the ground. Harry wasted no time in speeding up the Black Hawk, approaching the target building faster and getting away from the enemy troops. He could see heavy fire coming from the crows nest and was puzzled for a second. _Thought he said it was cleared!_ Then he looked closer and realized that it was Hunter 2-1 that was in the nest, taking out enemy vehicles to buy the evac site some time.

The helicopter flew over the battered ground below with a small team of Navy SEALs as cargo. Harry lowered above the roof of the target building and sat the black hawk down on an open space. There was already a handful of marines guarding the roof of the building. The black hawk touched down softly, and the SEALs got off quickly.

"Overlord, where's 2-1?" Harry asked, in his mic. He waited patiently for several seconds, watching the skies closely for any signs of enemy.

"I'm patching you through to Hunter lead, Lieutenant. Standby." Overlord replied. Again, Harry waited.

"Lt. Harry, this is Sgt. Foley, commander of Hunter 2-1. We've encountered heavy resistance -" An explosion in the background drowned out all other sound. " Dunn and Ramirez, you've got three coming your way!" The sgt. yelled.

"Give us a minute, Lieutenant. We'll be up there in no time." Sgt. Foley said to him.

James Ramirez, 75th Rangers. Washington, D.C.

Ramirez tagged the first hostile with several precise shots, killing him before he hit the ground. He ducked back below the shattered window to avoid getting hit by a waterfall of bullets from the other two that had entered. Dunn opened fire on them, forcing them behind cover. Ramirez peeked over the small piece of cover he was using, and loaded a grenade into the launcher. He aimed it right at the large desk that the two were using to hide behind.

"Hit 'em, James!" Dunn said. Ramirez fired the grenade across the room. It detonated on impact, obliterating the desk and anything within its damage radius. Wooden fragments flew threw the room, and so did the two hostiles. One of them flew into the wall really hard, and slid to the floor slowly. The other one was blown out the building completely, certifying his death. A large black spot was left where the desk was.

Ramirez scanned the room for any sign of movement. He could hear the Russians, but he couldn't see them.

But he could hear them.

Ramirez strained to hear the footsteps of someone approaching from his left, moving fast. He turned with his rifle aimed to take down the charging hostile, but was a second too late. The Russian tackled him and they both fell to the ground, hard. Ramirez lost his rifle in the collision, and fought to gain an advantage over the attacker. They grappled and wrestled. Ramirez opened up a bit of space in between them, and kneed the hostile as hard as he could in the stomach.

The Russian loosened his grip just a little after that, and Ramirez took advantage. He rolled over and pinned the Russian to the floor, face first. He slammed the attackers head in the ground several times with all his strength. Without wasting any time, Ramirez located his rifle, retrieved it, and popped the Russian 5 times in the back, killing him instantly.

****"Squad, on me!" Sgt. Foley yelled from the adjacent room. Ramirez put a fresh clip into his SCAR and proceeded into the next room with the rest of 2-1.

They moved through the small room and stepped into the hallway where there was a locked door leading to the roof. Ramirez moved up to the door and stood to one side, and Sandler went to the other pulling out his shotgun. Sandler looked at Ramirez, and Ramirez nodded.

Sandler shot the door on the side with the pump - action shotgun twice and moved out of the way. Ramirez immediately stepped in his place and kicked the door completely down. He stepped through at the same time, scanning the room for targets before moving to the stairwell leading to the roof. The rest of the squad came in right behind him and did the same.

Ramirez took point and proceeded up the flights of stairs. A door to his left burst open and a Russian charged him. He turned instantly peppered the hostile with 3 bullets. Sandler also shot him with the shotgun at the same time. There was no need to check if the guy was dead.

They continued up the stairs, prepared for anymore surprises that would probably come.

"2-1, where the hell are you? You need to get up here, asap." Ramirez heard the Lt. Harry demand in the com.

"Almost there." Sgt. Foley said.

They made it to the roof, where there were other friendlies sitting on stand by. The Navy SEAL squad was posted up on the roof as well. The helicopter sat there ready for take off.

2-1 rushed onto it and Ramirez grabbed the mini gun on the starboard side.

"Evac site's getting hit hard, we need to buy those guys some time down there. The World War Two memorial is giving 'em a hard time." The pilot said to them. As the helicopter rose, Ramirez watched the fiery destruction of an enemy chopper. The entire thing was blown to shrapnel and was sent plummeting to the ground.

Ramirez exhaled slowly and gripped the mini gun tight. They flew above the battle ground. Tanks were engaged in heavy battle down below. Ramirez could make out enemy and friendly troops as they moved around. Several friendly helicopters was accompanying them on their mission to clear the Monument.

"Got a SAM launch! Break left, break left!" Ramirez heard someone yell on the radio. He felt his heart beat speed up a fraction. The black hawk strafed to the left hard and Ramirez watched several missiles fly by. One of the friendly helicopters that was with them wasn't so lucky.

A direct hit on it caused it to spiral out of control, flames burning away at it. Ramirez could see the pilot fighting for control. The helicopter continued to spin 360, falling fast to the ground. It blew up as soon as it hit, killing anybody on board without a doubt. Ramirez thought the explosion looked like a miniature nuke blowing up.

"RPG teams at the memorial, gunner. Light 'em up!" The pilot yelled to Ramirez.

The helicopter slowed down and they got within perfect range. Ramirez pulled the trigger, turning the helicopter into a wave of destruction. Anything that passed beneath it was gone. Several troops were on top of one of the towers and Ramirez let them have it. The bullets tore away large chunks of stone and sent the hostiles flying. They were torn apart by the bullets and turned into mincemeat.

There was a BTR moving and Ramirez gave it proper treatment. The rounds from the minigun tore into it, hammering it with incredible force. An RPG team was nearby, which was unfortunate for them. They were taken down, being ripped to shreds. Hundreds of rounds per second slammed into the BTR, and it eventually went up in flames. The explosion was loud and distinct and sent the remains of the RPG team flying.

"That gunship needs to go down, gunner." The pilot said to him over the sound of the minigun.

Ramirez bit his lip, aimed, and focused his fire on the chopper. The thing hadn't even been able to take off completely. The pilot of it was killed in a firestorm of bullets and left the aircraft driver less. It spun out of control, taking all of the fire from Ramirez on all sides. The rotor blades were shot clean off. The whole helicopter just blew up in mid air, snapping in half and landing on a group of unlucky hostiles.

An RPG missile flew up from below and came close to hitting the black hawk. RPG's left white streaks in the air and Ramirez tracked it to its source. Another RPG team was on top of the other tower. The helicopter got within striking distance and Ramirez wasted no time. The rounds from the mini gun were serious, tearing away sections of the tower. One of the troops fell off of it and landed face first on the ground. The other ones were simply put to a bitter rest. It was a horrific sight. Limbs were being blown off as if it were some kind of movie.

****"They've got guys on the main road, gunner. I'm coming around." The pilot said as he steered the helicopter on an intercept course with the main street. Ramirez had forgotten all about the friendly helicopter that was supporting them. It strafed the targets on the road, detonating multiple vehicles that obliterated the ground. Ramirez looked closely, but the road was clear.

"_Damn_, gunner. Glad you're on our side." Ramirez heard the pilot say to him.

An alarm started beeping inside the helicopter loudly. _Alarms are bad... Really bad, _Ramirez thought.

"Incoming!" someone yelled. Ramirez prayed that the helicopter would dodge it like it had dodged the other ones. Boom! _No! _They were hit but managed to stay in the air. The support helicopter was hit several times and exploded in the air. Wreckage from the helicopter flew out in multiple directions.

"Overlord, we're hit but still in the air. They have a massive SAM battery at the Department of Justice! We're going in!" Sgt. Foley yelled. The helicopter flew beside the Department of Justice, and Ramirez engaged the enemy troops on the inside. Missiles were flying at them from everywhere and Ramirez struggled to control the fight. Large chunks and sections of the building were being blown off and windows were being destroyed by his minigun. Ramirez got mad and didn't let go of the trigger. He could see the enemy troops being obliterated in the hurricane of bullets and didn't let up.

"Take us up! If we're going down, then so are those SAM sites!" Sgt. Foley yelled to the pilot. The black hawk rose in altitude until it got above the roof, overseeing a dozen SAM sites. Ramirez gritted his teeth hard. He counted the SAM sites that he took out in his head.

_1... 2... 3... 4..._ "Take it!" He yelled.

The helicopter rocked hard as another explosion hit it. _What the hell was that?_ The helicopter began to spin violently and Ramirez knew what was about to happen. He had seen it plenty of times in the recent days.

"Mayday, mayday! We're hit and going down! Grid square Papa Bravo, 2..." Ramirez heard the pilot yelling. He felt his heart freeze up as they neared the ground

"Oh, shit! Oh shit!" Cpl. Dunn yelled loudly, over and over.

The helicopter hit the ground hard, and everything went black on Ramirez.


	7. Chapter 7

**Note: As I said in a review, I'll be cutting down on the number of characters in the 141.**

**Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Task Force 141. Southern Ukraine. Same time as the attack on Washington, D.C.**

"Incoming!"

Roach dived to the ground immediately and covered his head with his hands. Dirt showered him when the RPG hit the ground no more than 10 yards away. He felt the vibration from the explosion shake the ground. He scrambled back to his feet, picking his modified ACR back up.

The task force was following up on a lead that said that Makarov was using this building for a safe house. So far, that intelligence seemed to be true. The 3 story building was heavily defended with mercenary's and other men in Makarov's private army. Price was the one who'd coordinated the assault on the compound, but they had underestimated the firepower of Makarov's men. Roach felt that something was off about the whole deal anyway. Shepard claimed that this was the base, but he'd never really trusted the man like that. Especially after hearing what all Allen had said about him. But it was too late to do anything about it now. He was in familiar grounds, in the heat of battle.

Ghost, Mactavish, Price and some other guys were advancing on the building from the east. Roach, Allen, Raven, and a few others were hitting the base from the northern side. Enemy troops were posted up on balcony's overlooking the northern courtyard, and another group of them were on ground level, trading shots with Roach and the others. They were making good progress, due to all of the cover available.

Roach was off to the far right, trying to press behind their lines. He was moving up through a row of columns holding up the balcony above him. Roach crouched down behind one of them and aimed through the holographic sight mounted on his ACR. He was in the zone.

The holographic sight centered on a mercenary, and Roach let out a 3 round burst. The rounds slammed into the merc, and he went down. Roach then shot seven more times into a small cluster of Makarov's men, suppressing them. As soon as they ducked below cover, Roach fed a grenade into the attached grenade launcher on the ACR and fired it. A white streak followed the grenade as it cruised through the air. Hit detectors inside the grenade caused it to detonate on impact, with devastating results.

"They've got helicopters incoming!" Allen yelled. Roach hadn't even heard them.

The _whoop, whoop, whoop _of nearby choppers dominated the sounds of the battle field. A barrage of bullets collided into the columns that Roach was using for cover, and dust and small chunks of concrete splashed into the air. The bullets were tearing apart the columns.

The helicopters were right over head, the sound of the rotors drowning out everything else.

"They're dropping in reinforcements." Raven's voice sounded in Roach's head set. He looked up to see a rope hang from the back of the chopper to the ground below. _Damn._

Those backup troops would be a huge problem. They needed to maintain there timeline. The guys they were already fighting was enough of a problem as it was. This would just slow them down even more. _We gotta get past this shit._ Roach loaded another grenade into the launcher.

"That heli's coming down" Roach mumbled to himself.

He estimated the range and aimed. A troop had already grabbed the rope and was beginning to come down. The armor plating itself would be too much for a simple grenade from his ACR. He'd have to hit it somewhere vulnerable, in a weak spot. He could have gone for the cockpit, but the angle would be too extreme for him to hit. The tail rotor was his best bet, so he fired.

The grenade flew upwards at a curving angle. Several troops were coming down the rope now, but not for long. The tail rotor blew up completely in a fiery blaze, disabling any control of the chopper what so ever. As the helicopter began to spin out of control, the troops on the rope were thrown about, being sent to their deaths. They hit the ground hard, no doubt being killed. The helicopter lost altitude and plummeted to the ground, right on top of Makarov's men in the court yard.

The chopper blew up and hit the ground hard. The people inside were killed instantly, and anybody standing nearby was killed in the explosion as well. The ground shook violently. Black smoke billowed up from the crash.

"Place your shots and move quickly. Roach, what's your status?" Several explosions sounded in the background as Captain Price spoke to them.

"We're making progress, and will be on the door soon." Roach slapped another target with several bullets. The enemy combatant jerked as each round hit, and fell to the ground.

Roach and the others were fanning out in a 5 meter spread, moving without breaking pace. It was a less safe tactic, but it was very time efficient. Allen switched to his pistol, because according to Mactavish, it was faster than reloading, and laid down suppressive fire.

They made it to the door and stacked up on both sides. Roach and Allen were on the left side, and Raven and another 141 operator posted up on the right. Roach reloaded his ACR, putting a fresh clip into the weapon.

"Price, we're on the door and we're about to clear out the bottom floor." Allen said. Roach heard him in his microphone and in person.

Raven rigged a minor det charge on the door and stepped back to the right of the door. The explosion destroyed the door completely and sent a small shockwave through Roach's bones. A small cloud of dark smoke filled the doorway. Roach stepped inside first and moved to the right, fast.

He took it all in at once. There were several mercenaries inside the room, and Roach concentrated on dropping each one at a time. Just like in the firing courses. Like shooting down targets.

Roach shot at one that was behind a table, hitting him in the chest with several bullets. The target stumbled back from the impacts and slid to the floor after backing up into the wall. A long smear of blood trailed down to the floor, where the mercenary laid motionless.

Allen and Raven were coming in through the door, as Roach fanned throughout the room. It was a large open space, with couches and tables and desks. The mercenaries were dug in behind them, using them for cover. Bullets collided into the wall just behind Roach's head, barely missing him. He strafed and fired at the same time, drawing all of the heat while Raven and Allen picked them off.

Roach aimed at another target, as they aimed at him. They both fired at the same time. A bullet slammed into Roach's chest and knocked the wind out of him, sending him to the floor. He felt as if he'd been stabbed. Rubbing his hand over the spot that the bullet hit, he didn't feel any blood. The kevlar must've worked. Roach took a second to shake the dizziness from his head, before crawling back up to his feet.

An explosion sounded from the back of the compound. Price's team was busting in. The building would be clear in no time, and Makarov would have no where to go.

Raven shot the last merc in the room with a headshot. The lifeless body crumpled to the ground in a heap.

* * *

><p><strong>Pvt. James Ramirez, 75th Rangers. Washington, D.C.<strong>

Ramirez tasted blood in his mouth, his head hurt like hell, and the bones in his body felt like giving out.

_Where am I?_

He could hear gunfire and yelling. His vision slowly came back to him, and Ramirez could make out several friendly troops in front of him, outside the crashed helicopter. He realized that it was his squad, pinned down by Russian ground forces. Looking past them, he could see the city was still ablaze, and the fight for Washington D.C. was still going strong.

Ramirez crawled out of the burning wreckage and got behind a destroyed car with Sgt. Foley and Sandler.

"Hey! James is still alive!" Sandler looked surprised to see him. That had been a brutal crash landing. Sandler smiled his big toothy one. "Thought you were a goner man."

Ramirez kept his head down under the hail storm of bullets. Roger, who was posted up inside the cockpit of the destroyed helicopter, tossed a M16 out of the shattered windshield to him. Roger then tossed several magazines out to him, and Roach grabbed them all, quickly loading a clip into the m16.

"Dunn, what're the pilots looking like?" Foley called out over his shoulder.

"KIA, sir. It's just us left." Cpl. Dunn replied. He was on the other side of the helicopter, where the bodies of the pilot and co-pilot lay.

Ramirez stuck his head up above cover and fired at the Russian soldiers. They were advancing and gaining ground. Where in the hell did they all come from? He didn't remember seeing any when he was on the gun of the helicopter. A RPG flew through the air and detonated a few feet in front of the destroyed car, showering Ramirez with dirt and mud.

He fired a sustained burst from the M16, trying to suppress the enemy. The weapon bucked and jerked in his grasp, but he kept it under control. The muzzle flash was bright in the darkened light. _Wham! _A bullet slammed into his shoulder and sent Ramirez to the ground. It stung and his shoulder felt like dead weight. Ramirez began frantically reaching for his shoulder to see how bad it was.

"James!" Dunn crawled through the interior of the helicopter. A piece of the rotor blade blocked his path, and he picked it up and tossed it aside.

"I'm okay!" Ramirez hadn't realized that he'd been holding his breathe the whole time.

* * *

><p><strong>Lieutenant Luccario, Rapier Squadron. Washington D.C<strong>

"Switching to LGB's." Luccario spike into the microphone. He thumbed a switch in the cockpit, the computer screen responded appropriately.

"Bolt 117 is primed and ready." The computer showed a green status light on the laser guided bomb.

He slowed the F-22 down slightly and angled the aircraft, making micro adjustments to the yoke. The aim reticle lined up with the large mass of enemy troops. The closer he got, the closer the circle was to highlighting the ground forces. He would have to time the release right.

_3 Seconds... _ Luccario took a deep breathe. He punched the drop button. _Thump._ The hatch on the bottom of the F-22 opened, releasing the bolt 117. By the time it hit the ground, his plane was long gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Pvt. James Ramirez, 75th Rangers.<strong>

_Ffshhhhooooowh _A jet streamed by overhead, flying at an incredible speed.

"Get Do-!" An explosion cut off Sgt. Foley's voice. A second sun filled Ramirez's view and he shut his eyes tight, diving to the ground. The ground rumbled and James thought that he was thrown inside a blender. A loud snap sounded over the explosion, and Ramirez opened his eyes. A medium sized building right next to them was falling to the ground. It towered over the squad, and James felt his heart skip a beat.

"Holy Shit!" Dunn was screaming...


End file.
